Her.
“Can I help you, ma’am?” Alex’s warm voice repeated.
“It’s me,” she whispered. Carrie felt a wave of nausea wash over her at the pained look in his eyes. He still didn’t recognize her.
“I’m sorry – do we know each other?”
“You don’t know who I am?”
“Should I?”
“Alex, I’m your wife,” she breathed softly, feeling her knees grow weak. This was not right! This was not the reunion she’d wished for all these months.
“Ma’am, there must be some mistake,” Alex said gently, treating her like she’d lost her mind. “I’m pretty sure I’d remember if I was married to a lovely lady like you. Can I help you find someone? Are you lost?”
“Carrie. My name is Carrie Cornell Madison. We were married late last year…” she began and saw him flinch. He put his hand up to his temple and backed away from her. “Alex? Are you alright?”
“This isn’t funny;” he stammered, his face looked devastated and she felt a ray of hope spark in her chest, but it was quickly snuffed out. “I can’t be married to you. I don’t know you and I’m not ready for a family. I mean… I want my freedom and I have my own life.”
“It’s not a joke. I don’t understand what is happening between us.”
“You need to leave, please.”
“Leave? I just got here.”
“Ma’am – I can’t…” he began, rubbing his temple even harder. Carrie cut him off angrily, feeling betrayed and shell-shocked at the swift denial by the man she’d always admired.
“Carrie. My name is Carrie and I’m your wife.”
“I’m telling you now- you’ve got the wrong person.”
“I’m thinking that I was married to the wrong person, actually, if this is how you shirk your responsibilities. I don’t know why you are saying this- or acting like this- but you should be ashamed, Alexander Mitchell Madison- by your actions and words.”
Carrie did an about face and left the building before she broke down crying or fainted in shock. How dare he! She’d wanted to be a part of Alex’s life so bad for the last few months. It never dawned on her that he would use leaving her as a chance to be free. Maybe he was scared to be a father, but that wouldn’t change the fact that Carrie was here and pregnant. She had come all this way to start a new life – and she still intended to… here.
She had no intention of giving up on her hopes and dreams. This only meant a delay. What he didn’t realize is that when she set her mind to something… she played to win. If he needed space or was trying to live the life of a bachelor- she would be directly under foot the entire time.
4
Carrie had no illusions regarding her status, and the fact that despite what Alex said… she had a baby to take care of. If he wanted to deny her, he would not deny their child. She wouldn’t let him. She would need her basic needs met: shelter, food, and safety. If he continued along this route, she needed to make sure that she was able to support herself, but she had time before that was a necessity.
The full assault on her husband would begin immediately.
She would win him over and he would have no choice but to put up with her. If he had someone else, she didn’t know what she would do… and if it was the lady from the mercantile? Carrie saw red thinking of Alex with another woman. That was her husband, before God, and she would be keeping it that way.
She spent the afternoon simply watching the woodworking shop from a distance. Stalker had never been a part of her repertoire, but she was definitely watching his every move. She had a cup of hot tea and sat on a nearby bench, enjoying the cool breeze. She then meandered up and down Main Street trying to get her thoughts together. Stopping at the mercantile again, she smiled sweetly and picked up several items. A small wheel of cheese, coffee, a slab of bacon and other items.
“Please charge it to my husband’s account,” Carrie said firmly and almost giggled with happiness as they accepted her word that she was Alex’s wife. If they could accept it, why couldn’t he? There was so much that just didn’t make sense – pieces were missing, and she was determined to find out what had happened.
The land was theirs and she knew that would be her trump card. Her parents had specifically deeded the land to her and Alex both- not just Alex. She would move into the dugout and hope that pushed him into finishing the house. He would be welcome to live in the dugout until the house was finished- but that would be as her husband.
Carrie walked back to her earthen home later in the day and expected to have a second argument with her husband, only to see him shake his head and walk away as he got closer to their property. She was sitting on a chair near the front door, watching the horizon, waiting for him. Part of her wondered if he would yell, scream, or simply give in to her being there – yet he did nothing. He walked right past her and went to work on the house as she’d hoped. Getting to her feet, she began making dinner in the hopes that he would join her. Well over an hour had passed and she walked over to the house to see where he was at… frowning in dismay.
He’d hammered on a makeshift roof over the pantry in order to give himself a shelter away from her. Trying the small knob on the door, it moved but the door did not open.
“Goodnight, ma’am,” she heard him say from inside.
“Don’t you want dinner? I made your favorite.”
“I’m not hungry anymore.”
“Don’t be like this Alex. Come sit with me.”
“No, I think not,” he said calmly, irritating her to no end. Carried tried the door-knob again and saw a piece of black metal sticking out of the wood near the handle. Touching it, she realized that it was the tip of a nail. He’d gone and hammered himself inside of the pantry in order to lock her out.
“You are ridiculous and childlike,” she seethed, gnashing her teeth. “I don’t know what I ever saw in you… you… you varmint!”
Carrie was losing her patience with her husband. This absurd pattern went on for almost two weeks. He would be up before sunrise, and disappeared quickly. When he returned, he walked right past the dugout to the house and worked for a bit. When she would join him, he would nail himself shut in the pantry- effectively locking himself inside.
One evening, she got smart and simply walked straight back to the pantry in order to beat him there. She saw his bedroll on the ground and some beef jerky that had sustained him. Glancing out the small window, she saw Alex ride off into the sunset towards town. She waited and waited for him until her eyes were closing from exhaustion.
Maybe she was trying too hard?
She fixed a pail of food for him, covering it with a handkerchief, and walked over to the house. Grabbing a hammer and nail, she put it into the door frame and hung the pail on it. She hoped that the act of kindness would at least allow them to talk. The next day, she saw that the pail was empty and had been returned to the dugout. It sat empty near the door on the ground. A silent gauntlet between them. Perhaps her mother was right… you got more flies with honey.
Carrie made a pot of chili and prepared him a bit in a large bowl, this time putting a pillow inside the pantry where he slept. She hung the pail on the nail again – but this time instead of filling it with food… she put only a spoon inside. She didn’t want to simply give and give. He needed to budge a little too. She wouldn’t fix another pail of food, but she would feed him – and he would have to spend a little time with her. This time, when Alex walked past the dugout… she sprung her trap.
“I put on a pot of chili for dinner, if you’d like to join me?” She watched him walk across the way and pick up the pail she’d hung on the nail. He hesitated and peered inside the empty pail. A loud, deep rumble of manly laughter made her heart ache painfully. She remembered his playful side and how he liked to laugh. Those evenings when they would lie in bed simply talking in the dark. She had always adored his humor and vivacious personality… and missed it desperately.
“I guess I will- wont I?” Alex
turned and looked at her, a faint glimmer of appreciation in his eyes. She wanted to clap her hands with elation, but knew it was a small victory in the war that was coming for their future together.
“It’s an invitation, for certain,” she acknowledged with a wide smile. “I also made some biscuits for dinner… or breakfast tomorrow, if you’d like the leftovers? All you have to do is have a conversation with me. Would that be so bad?”
“You certainly are tenacious,” he admitted and walked towards her.
“My poppa always called me a headstrong child when I was growing up.”
“I don’t remember what my parents said or what they looked like.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s a long story.”
“The chili is piping hot and it might need to cool off for a while. Would you like some tea?” she offered and stepped back from the doorway she’d been standing near. She wanted him to sit with her, talk with her, and realize what he was missing by dismissing his wife.
“Your poppa might have been right,” he chuckled. “Very headstrong, indeed.”
Carrie almost let out her breath as she saw him step inside the dugout. She quickly followed him in order to pour the tea. She hoped it wasn’t too strong. It had been steeping for about an hour waiting on him to arrive. As she walked into the small dugout, she smiled nervously at his instantly wary face. It was downright cozy on the interior with both of them inside and the small bits of furniture.
“I see you’ve made yourself at home in my home,” he began and took a seat.
“Technically… it’s my home as well,” Carrie countered evenly. She would keep her temper in check and not let him goad her into an argument. She wanted to talk, and Alex had always had a way of getting under her skin.
“About that…” he said quietly, taking a sip of the tea as she handed him the cup. “Why don’t you tell me why you believe it’s yours and where this idea that I am your husband came from? I’ve heard of other women trying to trap a man into marriage, but usually it involves a lot less clothing. You are obviously already pregnant – so what happened to the father? Did he die? Are you here looking for a man to raise your child?”
Carrie stood there clenching the teapot in her hand as she stared down at him trying to decide whether or not to break it over his dark head. The man before her had Alex’s face but that wasn’t her happy-go-lucky husband speaking right now. This man, that tone, revealed that he had something going on in his life that colored his thinking. Unfortunately, she had no idea what it was that had made him so bitter at the world.
“Well aren’t you an enjoyable dinner companion?” she said brightly with a false smile.
“I’m just speaking the truth.”
That callous shrug made her grit her teeth painfully. He’s here, he’s listening, she kept telling herself and trying desperately not to get angry. Maybe if she could get him talking about himself it would give her a bit more knowledge in how to leverage the conversation.
“Well, since you think you have my backstory and you know all my awful secrets – how about you tell me all about you? What has happened over the last few months while we’ve been apart?” she asked simply.
Carrie poured herself a cup of tea. Fetching two bowls, she moved quickly about the room as an awkward silence descended between them. Alex wasn’t speaking; rather he was watching her with a pinched look on his face.
“Are you alright?” she murmured softly and took a seat nearby, putting the bowl in front of him. A large basket of biscuits sat on the table between them. Soda biscuits had always been a favorite of his and she hoped to show him what a good wife she could be if he would take her back. Instead, he didn’t move at all except to rub the bridge of his nose.
“I’m…” he began and stopped, looking down at the bowl. “I’m thinking dinner was a mistake.”
“No, it’s not. I’m lonely and could use the company,” she beseeched and hated the tone in her voice. She didn’t want to beg, but frankly she was scared deep down inside that he was truly going to abandon her and her child. If she only knew what had happened to make him feel so differently! Carrie reached out to touch his forearm and he jerked it away like her touch scalded him.
“Please, Alex – just talk so I am not talking to myself anymore in the silence.”
“I can’t remember,” he admitted finally in a tone she’d never heard before.
“What do you mean?”
“I can’t remember any of this. You. Me. My past – it’s all gone,” he said, getting to his feet nervously. “I appreciate the offer of dinner and it’s very polite of you, but I can’t step into the role of a man I don’t know. You are a stranger to me, but you look at me like… like…”
“Like I have known you forever?” she whispered, feeling a tear fall down her cheek. She was losing him and it was breaking her heart. How could he not remember what they were to each other?
“Yes,” he admitted in a rush, his bright blue eyes glancing up from the floor and meeting hers. “You have to understand that I am still learning who I am after the accident.”
“What accident?” she blurted out interrupting him. Carrie got to her feet awkwardly, her stomach bumping into the table and almost upsetting it, forcing her to sit back down again. He watched her and stepped back, her question unanswered.
“This is… foreign. I’m not ready for any of this, but I appreciate the effort you are putting into trying. I’m not your husband and if I was – I don’t think I am that same man. I am very, very sorry.”
“Wait!” she called out, trying to get to her feet again and thankfully he stopped at the door. “Alex, I understand something happened. I don’t know what- but it affected you. You are still a person, someone who will need a friend, and maybe a spot of home cooking once in a while. I’m not going anywhere and I would hate to let the food go to waste.”
Carrie grabbed a small rag that she used to protect her hand from the heat and put his bowl on top of it to keep from scalding herself. It took everything in her to put on a brave face and not break down. If this was a test, she wasn’t willing to fail. Even the best armies knew when to retreat and regroup.
“Take your dinner and the biscuits,” she offered simply, handing him the food. “They were once your favorites and I can make more.”
“It’s not necessary.”
“No, but my stomach sours at the slightest thing and I don’t feel like eating alone,” she admitted, looking away. She wanted to scream out in denial and frustration but that would do nothing but push him away. “Will you be attending church on Sunday?”
“Yes.”
“May I walk with you? It’s a long walk into town.”
“Of course.”
“Goodnight Alex – sleep well,” she said politely and opened the door for him. He looked at her; his eyes were tumultuous with so many questions and an appreciation that she was giving him his space he needed. Oh yes, the battle was not lost just yet for his heart.
“Thank you,” he replied and ducked out of the doorway. Carrie shut the door behind him and felt the surge of despair overwhelm her. She pressed her knuckles to her mouth to stifle the keening wail that escaped her throat as hot tears ran down her face.
5
The days dragged by and fell into the same dreadful, repeated pattern. Carrie would be waiting for signs of Alex and he would rush past her to the house he was working on. Thankfully, it was coming along pretty well. All the walls were closed in finally and he’d framed the windows in. The trusses were up on the roof and he was slowly covering it. It would be ready to inhabit in no time at all, if he stayed working on it daily like he was.
Sunday came and the walk into town was painfully awkward between them. She wanted to talk to him, to ask how he was doing, and it was obvious he didn’t want to talk. They walked slowly into town and Carrie had to stop twice due to the twinges in her back. Her stomach was growing immeasurably and she knew her time would be coming soon. She’d w
ritten a letter to her sister and planned on mailing it out. She needed someone with her when her baby came and she was too ashamed to ask her mother to come out. There would be so many questions and she wasn’t prepared to try to answer them.
The service was lovely… simply because Alex sat next to her in the pew. It allowed her to fantasize what it would be like to truly be part of his life again. Her hand rested on her stomach and she wished he would feel the baby move under her hand. Part of her wanted to invite him to touch it, but she knew it would be shunned in public… and he’d already made it abundantly clear he wasn’t ready for a family in the simple conversation they’d had a few nights ago. Her hand itched to hold his as the pastor spoke, yet instead she kept it to herself. Once it was over, they stepped out into the sunlight. Glancing up at him, she noticed a small white line that disappeared into his hairline. That was odd, she didn’t remember that ever being there but then again… it had been months since she’d seen him.
“Do you mind if I mail a letter?”
“Not at all.”
Carrie almost sighed in resignation, but instead walked across the way to the post office by herself. Once inside, she quickly paid and returned to where she’d left Alex standing. Sheer panic gripped her heart as she saw that he was no longer there. Her heart was breaking each time she tried to get close to him. For each move, it seemed that he ran even further away from her. Her hands were shaking with regret and loss at the fact that he’d left her alone to walk back to the dugout. Even a friend would wait until you returned… wouldn’t they?
Blindly, Carrie took a seat on a bench in front of a nearby building. Shutting her eyes, she leaned her head back against the wood and prayed silently for strength. She hoped her letter reached her sister in time and she hoped she conveyed the urgency of her needs. Calming herself, she waited several moments alone in the shade – trying to keep from crying. It felt like she had no one on her side anymore and the loneliness felt like she was drowning.
Blessings of Love (The Belles of Wyoming Book 7) Page 3
